


In Too Deep

by TimelessWriting



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo: Yamato Edition [1]
Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: 1500 words of pure Yamato suffering :), Bad Things Happen Bingo, Drowning, Gen, Interrogation, Kidnapping, yamato edition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimelessWriting/pseuds/TimelessWriting
Summary: He's so tired. It hurts so much. He's so cold. What do they even want with him?





	In Too Deep

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the first part of the Bad Things Happen Bingo: Yamato Edition series!! we kicking off with a bang with the prompt "drowning"! hell yeah. love me some pain and suffering, and I hope you'll stay to enjoy it with me!

It hurt. It hurt. He couldn’t breathe. His chest burned. He couldn’t move. His body was so heavy. He wanted it to stop.

Yamato gasped as his head was yanked out from the bathtub. The water was sloshing all around him and making a mess, but he couldn’t bring himself to notice nor care. Neither could he bring himself to care that he was thoroughly soaked, clothes clinging onto his body as if for dear life.

None of it was important. The only thing that mattered was remembering how to breathe.

_How did you do that again? Oh yeah._

Yamato shuddered as he lurched forward, gagging and dry-heaving until finally water poured out from his mouth as if he were some kind of decorative fountain. He numbly wondered how in the hell so much liquid had managed to fit inside his lungs and stomach as he shivered and gasped just inches above the water that had been in the process of asphyxiating him just a few seconds beforehand. The same scenario had happened a few minutes before now as well, and a few minutes before _that_ too. God, he was so tired.

_“Where is he? Where is the prince? Tell us, and maybe we’ll let you live!”_

Yamato had no idea what on Earth they were saying to him. It was all gibberish to his ears. The most he could gleam was that it was some European language, but it was all presumption. He really should have taken Nagi up on his previous offers to help him learn more languages in his free time. It’ll be helpful in the future to help inspire out fans, he had said. Stupid polyglot.

… He really wished they were here with him right now.

“For the last time, I don’t _know_ what the hell you’re saying!” Yamato gasped out in between breaths.

“Prince! Where!” The grunt holding him spit out in obviously butchered and fragmented Japanese, and shook Yamato’s head with his grip every time they made a new point. “You die! Tell!”

Yamato looked up at him through the corner of his eyes, bleary and blurry. He wished they would go away. They had yanked him off the street and dragged him off to some random, rundown apartment, in some random part of the city that he hadn’t even known existed. It had become clear the moment he had been stared down and talked to that his kidnapping had been for an interrogation––if it hadn’t involved compromising his health (life?) so much, he’d have almost thought it was hilarious how unprepared to communicate with someone Japanese they were––but he genuinely didn’t know what the hell they had been raving on about this entire time.

“I don’t know who–” He was shoved back into the water without a moment’s hesitation. They had no time for useless answers. They would get what they wanted eventually, and if the fool had to be plunged into water over and over again until he got the idea, then so be it.

The cycle repeated, and Yamato could only wonder as he inhaled water what kind of terrible things he had done in his past lives to deserve this. Or maybe it was this life… He hadn’t been a great person this life either. Karma really was a bitch.

He was crying the next time his head was lifted out of the tub, choking sobs through the water and stomach acid he was throwing back up into the water he kept being shoved into. There was only so much suffering even he could take, and it hurt so bad. It had been a miracle he hadn’t begun crying far more earlier.

“I don’t know who your prince is! I don’t know!” He hiccuped out before any more questions could be asked, and was responded to by having a photograph shoved into his face. It was so close to him that even _he_ , the only person in idolish7 that _needed_ things close to his face so he could see them, couldn’t even make it out.

He pulled back as far as he could, and squinted long and hard at the image trying to finally make out what it was of. When he did though, all he could do was stare, dumbfounded. Why on Earth did they have a picture of Nagi, and why was it so important to them?

He couldn’t help but internally grumble and rationalize in his head that this is what Nagi got for trying to make sure his stage self “brought all our fans happiness as if they were their own personal Prince Charmings.” Now Yamato had some random foreign men––fans?–– potentially trying to kill him because Yamato couldn’t tell them where his friend was.

He’d have to ask Tsumugi about new safety measures when he got back… That was, if he could manage to leave this room alive.

“Where.” It wasn’t a question this time. It was a demand, and Yamato got a sinking feeling in his gut that this was the last time that he was going to be able to answer. He really hoped the information he was going to be able to provide was going to be enough to please these deranged bastards.

“I–” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together so he could try and save his hide. If they didn’t understand what he was saying then he would be screwed. “He’s not here. He left to visit home a couple days ago. He’s not here. I don’t know where he is!”

The two goons in the room glanced at each other while Yamato tried to get his crying under control, hair still gripped tightly in one of the grunt’s hands. His body had been tied up in a way that almost seemed professional by how neat and well-done it had been done, and even Yamato couldn’t escape them using the tricks he had learned during one of the first ever films he acted in. The grip on his hair was really the only thing keeping him from tipping over at this point, having encountered being in a near-death state so many other times.

Yamato had his head yanked backwards so he could look up at the man who was now crouching behind him. Their face was blurry, but it wasn’t too hard to make out the sickeningly sweet candy smile on his face. Yamato didn’t let himself get his hopes up though, and for good reason.

He had little warning before he was shoved into the water yet one more time, and Yamato’s body was wracked with sobs underneath his weak, half-hearted flailing. He had hoped… he had hoped that information would have been enough… Why couldn’t it have been enough…

As he finally gave into the instinct to gasp and his body filled with water, Yamato thought back to everyone he knew. He thought of how Tama would get pouty and possessive without fail every time he teasingly acted as if he were to seize their beloved King Pudding, and of how he was never going to be able to do that again. Of how Mitsu and Nagi were always there to support him and push him to finally stop bottling things up. Of how Riku would constantly come running up to him to tell him fun trivia facts he had just learned, and of how he’d never get useless yet cute tidbits of information like that anymore after this. Sou, who was such a worrywart and so culturally dense that it made him the most fun to tease; who liked to pour entire bottles of hot sauce into foods that had left Yamato in the bathroom for half an hour after eating them more than once before. He was the only one who Yamato could almost relate to family wise, and Yamato couldn’t help but be sad that the two of them weren’t going to be able to hang out anymore. And of course, last but not least, knowing he was going to let down Ichi by breaking his promise to watch over his brother when he couldn’t. Ichi had trusted him, and he was going to let him down. He felt awful…

His body fell limp against the bathtub, and Yamato only vaguely felt himself being shoved down even further as the darkness began to cloud his vision. His body felt so numb… He wanted to go home…

* * *

When the man holding Yamato down felt him finally go limp for a decent amount of time, he let out an exhale of relief and wasted no time in shifting himself up. Just because he had relaxed didn’t leave him any more lenient or less professional though, and he was careful to maneuver the body in such a way that he could dump it into the tub entirely without giving their victim oxygen. On the unlikely off chance that Yamato might survive after being held underwater for that long of course, but one could never be too careful.

Shaking his hands off in a mock effort of getting himself dry, the man turned to his partner and gave them a cheeky grin.

“Well, you heard the man––corpse?––let’s go get ourselves a prince back in Northmare. We’ve got a job to finish.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> please feel free to subscribe to the series this is the first installment of to get notified for when I upload more of yamato's pain! you can vote [here on my twitter](https://tinyurl.com/yaj8s8h7) for what the next prompt is :3c
> 
> kudos and comments are also much appreciated! have a nice day!!


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